Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Dear 2010

Yet another year is coming to an end. The ever so common thoughts of the months transpiring by so quickly come to mind, and inspire me to look back at 2010, or which ever the number may be.
A simple and efficient quote can describe a part of this past year, found in my horoscope section. Not that I live by those sheepish fortunes; but I do in fact agree with this one: "In 2010 you will be able to make choices which set you free. Between late May and early August, as Uranus moves into a new sector of the sky - and then immediately gets involved in another opposition to Saturn - you will have to overcome one last big hurdle to lasting happiness."
Ok, well as many of you know, I left for San Francisco from May to August, a good 3 months. I think this quote describes well my stay, and is creepily accurate for the time frame. It is all to say I found my happiness when I came back. The big challenged wasn't to leave for the first time, prepared or not, to travel far places on my own, in solitude, with nothing but my mind and my backpack, but to come back and realise where I belong. I had to do it to set that notion in stone. I love where I am from, and I took it for granted.

If you could bundle up many important milestones of your current life and stick em into one year, 2010 would be it for me. I saw another part of the world, a great experience, I came back a new me, a positive little thinker. Black and white is the only way to describe my attitude in January and then now in December. I flipped the coin, turned the page, and looked right in front of me; focused like an arrow, and happy.
With my new born attitude, I came back, and immediatly found the best job I can think of getting. I then found the most adorable appartment I could ever dream of getting on my own, my first, alone. With the sound of rumbling steel in my backyard. Im at peace.

Countless little discoveries I have savored throughout the year, have made it so great. Images flashing through my mind of rolling hills, rock, deserts and oceans dissipate like a long gone dream as I fall alseep every night. I remember scents of the hot California summer air, the salty ocean breeze from the beach, the dry and hot air of the Nevada desert, and the never forgotten warmth and familiarity of a rainy and sticky evening in Montreal.

Now frozen in the Canadian winter, I sit in my warm and cozy pink bed looking through the frost bitten window, with the ever so handy novel "On the Road" by my side, I watch the freights crawling by, and the occasional passenger train, with little lit up windows that flash by.